


Angel is a Centerfold

by sydkn3e



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All the Chicken Nuggets, Drunk McDonalds Run, Drunken Shenanigans, Kissing, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydkn3e/pseuds/sydkn3e
Summary: Cas and Dean celebrate their Vegas marriage with a drunken visit to McDonald's.Because nuggets.





	Angel is a Centerfold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [39feathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/39feathers/gifts).



> Special appearance by Green Day's Drunk Bunny and a Parks & Rec reference.

Working at the McDonald’s near the Vegas strip was not glamorous. I suppose working at any McDonald’s was probably not anyone’s idea of glamorous, but this particular one was somehow less so. However, Irma has student loans to pay, and fraternal twins to take care of at home. So three days a week, from 5 p.m. until closing time, she works the cash register for an extra seven fifty an hour.

Irma sees her fair share of drunken fools and inexplicable sights, so closing shift at a Vegas McDonald’s is anything but mundane. However, on this particular night, things are strangely quiet. She’d only had two people come in that even smelled remotely like alcohol, and some unknown person in a dirty pink bunny suit (legit, like an official Easter bunny suit) who silently ordered two McDoubles with Mac sauce and paid for their food without even removing the fake bunny head. Everyone else was normal… or, at least, Vegas normal, and it was, for sure, one of the most normal nights of her year and a half in this routine. Irma’s restaurant is one of the five McDonald’s directly on Las Vegas Boulevard, and the only one that isn’t open 24 hours. She can’t imagine the sights that some of those workers have to see.

It’s ten minutes past official closing time, the last employee besides her having left upon the completion of their cleaning side work. Irma’s counting out dimes when she hears the outside door open and drunken giggling. Somehow… _manly_ drunken giggling. Realizing Lissette must have left the door unlocked when she finished mopping the dining room, Irma rolls her eyes so hard it makes her head ache, not feeling like dealing with anymore drunken bullshit for the night.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed!” She calls out, not bothering with politeness because after all, it’s past closing time and whoever it is is obviously inebriated. She listens for a few seconds and hears nothing, so she continues counting down her drawer. There’s silence for several minutes before she hears a muffled _thump _and more drunken laughter. She makes an annoyed sound deep in her throat, dropping a handful of dimes back into their slot and slamming the register closed. She stalks through the side door to the dining room and jerks open the heavy glass door to outside, ready to tear whoever it is on the other side of the door a new one. It’s not like they’d remember tomorrow, anyway.__

She isn’t entirely surprised to find two grown and extremely inebriated men making out against the wall, the slightly taller man in the green jacket pressed closely against the dark-haired man in the tan trench coat, his hands holding on to the man’s hips like if he let go he’d fall over. Chances are, he would.

“Alright, guys, come on. There’s a hotel literally next door.” Irma says loudly, gesturing outside. “We’re closed.”

The men don’t even register her presence.

“ _HEY_.” She says louder, tapping Green Jacket on his shoulder. “You hear me? _Closed_. There’s a waffle house down the street.”

Green Jacket reluctantly pulls away with a wet smack, looking over at Irma with bright green eyes that refuse to focus. Trench Coat just watches him, pink lips parted and kiss-swollen, the look of a man smitten painted across his face. Green Jacket gives a dopey smile and squints, leaning in much closer to Irma than necessary.

“ _Heyyy, m’lady_ ,” he slurs dramatically through a wide grin, and honestly it’s enough to make Irma’s head spin a little. The man is actually too attractive for his own good.

She doesn’t manage to form any words, just raises an eyebrow instead.

The man sways a little and braces himself on the wall with one hand directly over Trench Coat’s shoulder, who finally turns his attention to Irma as well, electric blue eyes freezing her in place.

 _Fuck_. She mentally kicks herself for not secretly watching them from inside the dining room.

“Thisssis _CASTIEL_ , and he's an _annnngel_.” He emphasizes the ‘Castiel’, his tongue coming to rest at the back of his top teeth, making Castiel giggle like a schoolgirl. “But m’ brothern’ I, we jus call ‘im Cas.” Green Jacket shrugs, then gestures to Irma. “Youcan call ‘im thatoo, but _ONLY IF_ you makeussome nuggets.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed.” Irma repeats out of habit, kicking herself.

“Oh.” Green Jacket’s face falls, and he looks over at Cas. “They’re _closed_.” He parrots, as if Castiel wasn’t close enough to have heard it himself. He just nods politely.

“Thassa shame…” Green Jacket slurs, poking his bottom lip out a little. After a moment his face lights up again, and he looks back up at Irma with a wide smile. “Y’know, Cas’n I go’married tonight!”

“Bya man who kinda looked like me.” Castiel speaks for the first time, his words slightly more proper and less slurred, and his voice much deeper than Irma was expecting.

Irma laughs at that. “Oh, yeah?”

Cas nods furiously, and Green Jacket claps him on the shoulder, laughing.

“It was Elvis, Cas.” Green Jacket says, before turning his attention back to Irma. “D’jano he wastill alive??”

Irma laughs again. “I suppose he’s more alive here than he is anywhere else. Tell you what. Since you got married tonight, I’ll make an exception and make you some food. As long as you also allow me to call you a cab when you leave.”

Green Jacket gives her finger guns and clicks his tongue at her. “Deal.”

“So what’s your name?” Irma asks, holding the door open for the two men, who stumble inside, Green Jacket’s arm thrown over Cas’s shoulder and Cas holding him up with a strong arm around his waist.

“This is…Dean.” Cas says, making his voice exaggeratedly deep to say the man’s name, and Dean throws his head back and howls with laughter at their apparent inside joke.

“Alright then, Dean…Cas.” Irma nods at both of them and heads behind the counter, during which time Dean begins to parade around the dining room and gesturing dramatically at Cas, whose cheeks were flushed with embarrassment despite their lack of audience.

“LOOK. AT. MY. BEAUTIFUL. HUSBAND!” He yells to no one, holding his hands out to his sides in triumph. “HE IS DEVASTATINGLY HAN’SOME AND ‘M A LUCKY SONUVABITCH! AIN’T I? AIN’T I?” He looks around the empty room before dropping his shoulders in disappointment, his imaginary audience obviously not giving him the answer he was looking for. He turns back to the register. “Ain’t I, uh…food lady?”

“Irma.”

“Ervin.”

“ _IRMA_.”

Dean snaps his fingers and points in her direction. “’Xactly.”

Irma snorts, unable to even be angry about her current situation, which she admittedly had a hand in creating for herself. “And you're right. He _is_ devastatingly handsome.”

Dean smirks and huffs a laugh, then gets serious just as quickly, fixing her with a hard look. He points at her again.

“Hey...watch yerself. He's mine, ya hear?”

Irma stifles a laugh and nods. “I hear you.”

Cas is a bright crimson as he approaches the counter, pulling his wallet clumsily out of his black dress pants and producing a twenty dollar bill.

“ _WOAH_ , CAS…BUDDY.” Dean stumbles his way to the register, practically falling into Cas, holding himself up with a hand on his shoulder. “What’re ya doin? I’m s’posed to buy _you_ some grub.”

“Dean, I literally got this money from you.” Cas says, smiling as recognition crossed Dean’s face. “Besides, we’re going to be sharing everything from here on out, anyway.”

Dean smacks his forehead. “Tha’s right. God, you’re sosmart, Cas. Ima goddamn lucky sonuvabitch. You’re sosmart, and so _damn_ sexy…” he presses forward, all his weight on Cas’s front as he cups his face and pulls him into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. For several moments there's only hair tugging, lip biting, and borderline pornographic groans coming from both men. Right there. Right up against the counter.

Irma pretends like she’s trying to look away.

Finally, she clears her throat. Once. Twice. They either don't notice or don't care.

Finally Dean lets go, staggering back a little, his pupils lust blown and his full lips glistening. His tongue darts out to wet them, unnecessarily, and Cas turns his attention back to Irma, his glorious sex hair sticking out in all directions and his pupils blown just as wide. They're both panting, and Irma just about has to pick her jaw up off the floor.

Cas leans in, as close as the counter will allow, his blue tie hanging loosely around his neck and pooling on the counter below. He gestures for Irma to lean in closer.

And God help her, she does.

Cas fixes her with a stare that could pop the lock off of a goddamn metal chastity belt, sincere and downright feral. He gestures her closer still, and she obliges, until his face is right beside hers, his lips so close to her ear she can feel the warm air.

When he speaks, his voice is impossibly deep and menacing, sending shivers down Irma's spine.

 _“I'm going to need all of the chicken nuggets that you have_.”

Irma almost laughs, but thinks better of it because Castiel is most certainly _NOT_ joking.

“I-uh, yeah. Yeah. I can do that.”

She turns to go start up the fryer when Cas reaches out and grasps her wrist firmly, pulling her back close to him.

“Just to be clear...” he said, his tone still serious and dominant, “I'm afraid that what you just heard was 'give me a lot of chicken nuggets'. What I said was: 'give me _ALL. OF THE CHICKEN NUGGETS. THAT YOU HAVE'_. Do you understand?”

Irma nods furiously, and Cas finally lets go of her wrist. She lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

About thirty minutes, an impromptu karaoke session by Dean, and 200 chicken nuggets later, (plus firm convincing from Irma that it was, indeed, _all of the chicken nuggets they had_ ) Irma was waiting with Dean and Cas for their cab. The guys were a quarter of the way through their nuggets when the cab pulled up, blaring a song that Dean excitedly performed as they were ushered into the backseat, shimmying his shoulders in Cas's direction as the dark-haired man giggled childishly.

“ _Now I was shakin' in my shoes, whenever he flashed those baby blues_...”

The words became muffled as Irma closed the door behind them, waving goodbye to Cas as Dean continued his obnoxiously loud and off-key performance.

“Goodbye, and thanks, Irma.” Cas nods his head sagely.

“Anytime, boys. And congratulations to you both.” Irma gives a half salute as the car begins to pull away.

Dean gives more finger guns and a sly wink, his singing the last thing Irma hears before the car pulls onto Las Vegas Boulevard.

“ _ANGEL IS THE CENTERFOLD! MY ANGEL IS THE CENTERFOLD!_ ”


End file.
